Here in Ditto Town, when one of ze stories in ze Town Fountain becomes popular enough, I give them their own thread, to keep things neater and more organized. Moi, I’m proud to feature some of Ditto Town's best roleplays.

If vous would like to join any of these roleplays, please PM ze creator first.

Please follow zese guidelines in your posts:• Please keep all posts rated “G” or “PG” for ze sake of our younger members.• Cooperate with ze plotter, as they basically have ze final word for ze storyline.• Please try to make your posts longer than 10 words and shorter than 600 words. If vous want to chat (“I’m at work today. How are vous?”) instead of role-play (“Chedder ze Chipmunk flings himself from branch to branch, looking for his lost thimble.”), please go to ze Cup & Platter Chatroom.• All role play characters should be characters vous have invented yourself, not stolen from ze other authors. Vous can use names created by others, but zey must be different characters. Vous can use your characters from ze Ditto Story and Fountain, or ones made up just for this thread. Vous can post a biography of your characters in ze Ditto Town Post Office.• Please keep the lay of the land in mind when vous post. The map is here.• Please, label what sub-group vous are writing for, so others can know where exactly vous are.

Richard Elias Caldwell was bored. The passenger car he was currently shackled in was empty of any human life beyond that of himself and the marshal sitting across from him. The scenery was certainly no relief from this boredom considering that is consisted almost entirely of dirt, dirt, and more dirt along with some shriveled-up looking bushes with a few random cacti thrown in. Conversation wasn't likely to be promising either. Normally Caldwell would enjoy a nice talk with a pretty lady, but this particular pretty lady intended to have him hung by the neck until he was dead. Caldwell intended to not be hung at all, much less die.

Iron wolves didn't actually have any iron in their metal body augmentations. It was bronze and they weren't wolves either. Instead they were considerably less intimidating coyotes. But when these former military weapons had escaped their pens in Nevada and gone on a rampage across the West, Eastern newspapers had gone for maximum melodrama in naming them. What the people who had to fight and hunt them called them couldn't be printed in newspapers.

There had never been reports of iron wolves successfully attacking a train, but Caldwell still itched for his trusty Tesla Electra-rifle 9000 or even a Verne fusil loaded with lightning bullets. Not just for the iron wolves, but because of the whole being captured and on the way to his doom thing. He was starting to think stealing one of Mr. Well's tripods from the Army might have been a poor course of action.

"If they get too close, I'll be happy to cut of one of your extraneous limbs and feed it to them," she stood and moved over toward the door. Picking up her self-styled weapon, she slung it over her shoulder. "or, maybe I'll just shoot you and dump the body for them. Less work for me."

She turned around and faced Caldwell, her hat neatly covering half of her face. The unconventional woman at first glance looked much more a widow than a warrior, dressed all in black, her hat and sometimes a veil hiding her face.

"We'll be at the next stop in a quarter hour. Play nice and I might pick up a bag of peanuts for you. Try to run, well...."

She racked her gun and leaned against one of the chairs, a bit of a smile crossing her face.

"Let's just play nice, ok? No need for that leg of yours to have any more troubles this time."

"Run? Sweetheart, I can barely stand with this terrible injury you inflicted on me," Caldwell said. He was lying, of course. The wound was a glorified scratch, but the shock of the sudden pain had been enough to get him captured. "And I have a nut allergy. You wouldn't want me to bloat up and die on you, would you?"

Caldwell was covering it, but he was starting to get worried. His men had said they'd come for him if he was captured, but they had been on the train for a long time now and nothing had happened. Sagebrush Crossing, the town the train was approaching, was an ideal place for a rescue attempt. Considering it only had one saloon, it barely even qualified as a town. Unless things had changed drastically in the six months since Caldwell and his gang had passed through the area, the town was only protected by an iron wall; no fancy expensive electrostatic sleeve to keep bandits and varmints out of this one-horse hamlet.

"You'll have to give my regards to the fine people of Sagebrush Crossing," Caldwell said. "Last time I came through, I shot the sheriff. Didn't shoot the deputy though. I'm sure he appreciated that leg-up on the career ladder."

"And you think I wouldn't enjoy seeing that happen...I'll remember that, Caldwell. And I'm sure the people of Sagebrush will, too."

The train was slowing, and the marshal began collecting her things.

"We change trains here," she said, holstering her sidearm and tucking a third one in her belt, then walking over and uncuffing half of Caldwell's shackles. A second later, the corresponding cuff was around her own wrist, and locked tight. "And yes, I'm expecting your boys to meet us here. Which is why I'll shoot you first if I hear a single bullet fly. Incidentally, the sheriff here happens to be a good friend of mine and a sure shot. Don't--"

A deafening explosion ripped through the air as the train reared back, nearly sending the Marshal flying down the aisle, but grabbed a pole and merely went for a spin instead.

"Diyu!" she exclaimed, working to get her legs beneath her and stabilizing herself. "Get up. Now."

The Marshal was none to gentle as she jerked Caldwell to his feet and pushed him toward the door.

"Welcome to Sagebrush Crossing, Mr. Caldwell," she said. "Now open the door."

"Do we have to go out there? I'm feeling quite fine inside. Unless the boiler explodes. That would be bad," Caldwell was doing his best to distract the Marshall while she shoved him toward the door. It had to be his boys out there, who else would be coming for him? Being a human shield though, that was a problem.

Caldwell shoved the door open and immediately began coughing. The locomotive was on fire, as was the first three cars, and the smoke was streaming backwards in the wind. Fortunately they had been located at the very back of the train or the marshal and the outlaw would have shared the terrible demise of the passengers in those particular cars.

Caldwell flinched as a bullet slammed into the door next to him and he looked around wildly, ready to yell at whomever had nearly shot him. What he saw was not what he had hoped for. The tripod that he and his boys had stolen from the Army was looming over the train, but it was definitely not his gang at the controls.

"Richard Elias Caldwell. I've waited a long time for this day and I am going to look back quite fondly upon it long into my old age," a voice boomed down the tripod, amplified by a megaphone.

"Steven Meyer? Where are my boys? How'd you get that thing?"

"I shot them all dead, Caldwell. Just like I'm going to shoot you dead and hang your corpse on a cactus for the buzzards to feed on. And while I'm at it, I'm going to shoot that woman hiding behind you and everyone else on this train. Going to be a good day in Sagebrush."

There was a crack, and Meyer groaned and crumpled over, crashing from his perch, landing face down in the dust.

"But of course you never expected that, because women are weak and can't amount to much of anything," the Marshal kicked Meyer, watching as he rolled over onto his back. He gurgled slightly, his breath coming in gasps. "I know how you boys think. And unfortunately, I don't have time to deal with two groaning excuses for men, so one of you has to go."

She leveled her weapon at Meyer.

"Sorry, you're the least likely to last to my destination," she said, pulling the trigger. Meyer reeled back onto the track, the light draining from his eyes. The Marshal holstered her weapon and turned to Caldwell. "I'm all out of mercy for today. Get up."

"Nice shot, Marshal," Caldwell said as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. Above the duo, Meyer's panicked men frantically tried to figure out the controls and the tripod began to lurch away from the train. Caldwell stared down at Meyer's corpse and kicked it viciously. A different man might have wept at this moment. He'd known some of the men in his band of outlaws for years. Some had been with him since his street urchin days. All dead now.

"They're going to come back. Meyer has a sizable band with him. They already wanted to kill me pretty bad, but I think you just jumped to the head of their list."

"You three! Take that Titanium sheet and patch up that hole! Billy, nice work on the finish, but be practical will you? John, how's the gun-placement going?"

Jedidiah Moyer was overseeing the repair of the town wall; which always seemed to be in a state of disrepair. He didn't like the chore, but it was in his contract. It was also vital to the town's survival. Without it, the streets would be crawling with Iron Wolves and other such demon-spawn. It also served to defend against Zeppelin-Riding natives, and nothing took a balloon down like the the new Ordnance they were installing. Or so the seller had informed him.

"Dangit Charlie! We are vulnerable until we patch up this wall, so stop lallygagging and keep a better look-out next time, k?"

"Okay Boss."

The Sheriff climbed to the top of the wall, "Now give that telescope!" Charlie offered it to him and Moyer grabbed it, putting the lens to his eye. After a minute he grunted at want he saw. Handed the telescope back and then proceed to climb back down off the wall. Then, calmly made his way to the gate.

He undid the numerous deadbolt locks and opened it just in time for his friend, the Marshal and her unwilling companion to enter.

"Welcome back to Sagebrush," he said coolly. His steely green eyes focusing on Caldwell.

"We've been alright, had a couple raiders come through the other day. Tore the wall up real bad. But nothing out of the ordinary." Jed waved his hand towards the repairs being preformed on the wall.

He also noticed various workers staring at Richard, clearly they weren't thinking about buying the man a drink. "Lets get this slime down to my office, shall we?" He suggested, before yelling at the laborers. "Listen up! Take a break guys!" Their union rules stated that they had a ten minute break for every hour of work, so he took advantage of it.

The Marshal gave Caldwell a slight shove to get him moving, and the threesome progressed down the streets with little conversation. She glanced from side to side, mentally assessing the town's assets and liabilities. Apparently it had been torn up more than once since she last came by. All that was probably due to being so close to where the tracks crossed.

It wasn't far to Jedidiah's office, and soon the Marshal's boots clicked over the threshold. She looked around, and nodded.

"Place hasn't changed much," she said, uncuffing herself from Caldwell and subsequently cuffing him to the stovepipe. Finally, she turned back to the Sheriff. "The track was blown about a mile away from the crossing. I don't know when the next train will be able to get through. How well do you think your town can hold up?"

" Not very well, if my last trip through here's anything to go by. The Meyer gang is big and they have my weapons now. That patchwork rustbucket of a wall won't keep them out," Caldwell said and leaned his chair back against the wall. "We're probably all going to die. Nice seein' you again, Sheriff. Congrats on that promotion."